Ash Heap Hound (6)

   
   "Ash Heap Hound (6)"
   
   The Full Sturgeon Moon had become ignited aglow, like a spherical piece of sparkly cheese; moreover, I became a freaking American Foxhound--and yes, I'll keep throwing in the Beagle jokes, but like I've mentioned in the past of this haunted past, I liked Snoopy, and no birds hued with the shimmer of yellow floated by during the midnight hours.
   My nose was swift to scent.  I knew when and where to pee; plus, evacuate my doggy bowels.  I urinated on the tire of a 1987 Mustang GT, armed with the famous Five Liter--they refer to it on the streets as simply:  "The 5.0."
   Too, 1987 was the first year that Mustangs got across the board fuel injection on those behemoth small blocks, full of towering power.
   Anyway, on four paws I sauntered over to Conner's trailer.  He was reading a modern PLAYBOY magazine--they have clothes on the girls now--so it was cool  

JackBurtonPorkchopExpress

Ash Heap Hound (5)

   
   "Ash Heap Hound (5)"
   
   I was fascinated during the wane of Luna, when all was normal, with no hound-like elasticity.  Yup, even read old copies of JUSTICE LEAGUE, thinking about Elongated Man, and how he drank that Gingo juice to give him his elongating powers.  And Plastic Man--I prefer in the flesh, not in the plastic; still, I understood why some dirty chicks dug him way back in the 1980's, when his variety show, of sorts, was on.
   So, I didn't stress, though my nose was sensitive to all the vandalizing vermin scurrying around my favorite junkyard.  But Conner came into my trailer with some cheap wine and a block of cheese.  I smartly asked:  "What, no crackers?"
   Then, felt like a fool for my competitive comedy; nevertheless, Conner was laid back, suave, and cool; plus, could use a wrench, and it was nice to have a nice friend.  Maybe one day--even more, like love would blossom.  A girl can only hope; moreover, Conner didn't grunt at the butcher in the meat section at the grocery market, like most guys do when scoping New York Strip--we shopped together at PIGGLY WIGGLY, and he was nothing but couth.  

Ash Heap Hound (4)

   
   "Ash Heap Hound (4)"
   
   So me:  Zoe--I was like unto an American Foxhound when the Moon was waxing full.  Kind, loyal, a great family companion, yet I still wore a battery on my shoulder, always daring you to knock it off, and I guess that's cause I kinda looked like a Beagle, but hey--Snoopy was cool, and NO!!!  I'm not friends with any yellow birds.
   Anyway, that's my bizarrely strange secret.  But, about Conner--it was no secret.  I had a thing for him ever since he took his mighty wrench and knocked that creep in the mouth at the junkyard who was trying to up-skirt me with a Smart Phone's camera.  All kinda weirdos come to the royal junkyard, and not weird like me, but malevolent.  Just plain nasty thugs--into violence and shit; anyway, I mustered up my toxic cool and went to talk to Conner, him underneath the 1969 Mustang with the small but fiery 302 block--I probed:  "What are you doing my man?"  Then, I figured I sounded too butch, but he was cool, responding:  "Madame, I'm checking on the water pump."
   Just to get verbal confirmation from him that I was alive, and that he wasn't a dream--well, it was heartwarming.  

Ash Heap Hound (3)

   
   "Ash Heap Hound (3)"
   
Okay--me:  Zoe,
And my firm thighs aren't doughy;
Still, I once told my mother that her thighs appeared as cookie dough with a sloppy stir;
Thus, the shame resonates, and she's a living ghost--being free, like energized myrrh.

So, I sing:
I'm a red-ribbon winner, cause life is a race;
I'll get my Blue Ribbon one day!!!

   Then, I spotted Conner.  So lean and damned determined, working on replacing the carburetor on his 1969 Mustang with a factory hood induction and a 302 block--swift out of the hole.
   His head of curly-chestnut hair beyond being feathered, looking like a Hollywood perm, yet so tangible and real.  Couldn't take my stare away from his physical presence.  And he was awesomely affable.  Very much so.  Hence, why shouldn't I crush on him?

Ash Heap Hound (2)

   
   "Ash Heap Hound (2)"
   
MOPAR is really an acronym--for:
Massively Overpowered And Respected--mine, with four on the floor;
Moreover, the "Cuda was Base-Jumping bliss, making me ultra-free
On the highway, and in two trailers when parked at the junkyard, where I sojourn and BE,
For residing next to my place was my heart's desire, a dude named Conner,
A handsome, hard-working hound lover--no yawner.   

Ash Heap Hound (1)

   
   "Ash Heap Hound (1)"
   
   My name is Zoe Barduff--ya heard me!!!  
   I'm blonde and athletic, they call me a hot chick--does that bother you?
   I live in a junkyard.  Very urban, yet metals and such offer metaphysical protection as do those bucolic parts of America and the rural aspects of it all.  Living here is like being on the fictional planet of Cybertron--that fabricated place the Transformers are from; plus, a little bit of George Lucas' 1973 American Graffiti mixed in, when old John Milner was street racing.  I liked being a scrap girl.
   I drove a restored Plymouth Barracuda with a 383 block.  It was damn fast.  I just call it my 'Cuda.